Secret Diary Of A Bored Girl. |
A collection of the things in my head.
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This one, was of a text someone had sent. They were writing about how they had spent the last 12 months getting over the person they’re sending it to, and how they’re still ripped apart every time they see them, bla bla bla that kinda stuff…
What I found interesting, was the comments on the photo; every comment from a girl, seemed to assume it was a girl writing, and had been hurt, and every guy seemed to think the opposite, despite the fact that the message had no gender indication at all. The comments from women said things like how unlucky she was, and how men are terrible, giving emotional support etc, whereas all comments from men, joked and laughed about how the writer was ‘gay’ and needed to ‘man up’.
I know it’s common knowledge that women stick up for each other in a way that men don’t, but I find it interesting, that they both assume they’re reading something written by their own gender… as though, with the lack of suggestion, they automatically hear a female or male voice, depending on what they’re most used to, rather than the neutral one that would be expected…
Once again, I’m sure I’m just over thinking everything, and trying to make something interesting out of my mundane surroundings.
I want to hold you as I drift off to sleep, to feel you’re breath on the back of my neck, to rest my head on the dent of your shoulder, to lie there talking late into the night, to wake up and realise I’m not alone.Basically, I wish you didn’t work nights.
It’s not that often I get upset, or disappointed about something, usually I’m just angry at myself, which I can deal with. But on the occasion that I am worried, or sad, or just had a bad day, I would love someone to understand, to give me a massive hug, and to let me rant. Everyone I talk to - my friends, my family, my coach, my teachers etc - is ridiculously sarcastic to me. It’s probably not their fault; I’m very sarcastic myself, so I’m sure they’re just doing what they think’s best, but I’m only sarcastic because… well because I don’t know how to be sympathetic, so I panic and jokes come out. I know they can be kind and empathise, so could they please, just once, give me a hug and tell me life will be OK.
Firstly, don’t ask why, there’s nothing else one… but secondly: I know they’re supposed to be ultimate couple and all, but they do have the most boring conversations I have ever heard. Mostly all they talk about is death, how depressing everything in the world is, and how hard their lives are. And if they are for once, having a vaguely interesting conversation, it’s made increasingly tedious, buy how fecking slowly they talk! It’s like they try and make every single sentence the most dramatic moment of their dull little lives, seriously, lighten up!
It said something along the lines of: ‘We notice you haven’t been using your Hotmail account recently.’ I’m sorry, What is the point of that?! I have to be on my email, in order to read the email, telling me that I’m not on my email!
Seriously, people make no sense sometimes…
When asked what super power I would choose (which happens surprisingly often for some reason..), I say something like flying or being invisible, because they’re more simple than explaining what I’d really like:
I’d love to be able to see the world through someone else eyes. Even for a short time; to be able to see what colours mean to them, whether people look different to them than they do to me, whether the relationship one has with someone genuinely changes how one sees them, whether sounds are different, whether things taste different, the way someone’s mind works, the associations they make… the list goes on… but most importantly, I’d love to know, how they see me. What people actually think of me, and the way I act. No sugar coating, no lies, the actual truth. I’m sure it would be unbearable… but it’d be nice all the same…
So my cat didn’t come in this morning, and hasn’t this evening either, (Yes, that’s less than 24 hours..) and my parents are 100% certain he must be dead. My darling mother was more worried about him not coming in for his breakfast, then she is when my siblings or I don’t come home for the night… It’s a cat! I mean, yea, he’s adorable and I will miss him moaning for food all day and waking me up every morning if he’s gone… but seriously, calm yourselves!
No one’s happy with themselves, and anyone who says they wouldn’t change anything is lying, that’s just guaranteed, I know. But it really upsets me when people aren’t happy with something, that they’re clearly so lucky to have.
Living in the world of a teenage girl, weight, and appearance is the obvious example:
People who just want to be skinny because their skinny friend gets more attention -
Do you really want the attention of those who only give it to you because or your weight? Wouldn’t you prefer the attention of someone who likes you as yourself, and not you as your friend’s mini me?
People who want to loose weight even though they’re already beautiful -
I understand that society tells you, you must want loose weight or you’re not normal, but you look beautiful as you are! When someone tells you, you don’t need to loose weight, you look good, take the compliment and accept that you look good! you don’t need to change yourself just because society tells you.
(I’m sorry if I offend anyone, I know there are plenty of people out there who suffer from dissorders and these kind of things aren’t something they choose, this isn’t aimed at you..)
I’m in an extremely ranty mood recently, so these will probably continue throughout the week.
I really don’t care!
This guy in a class today, just kept going on about how he drank 14 pints on Saturday and was absolutely fine. Well la-de-da, isn’t your liver just the luckiest.
Don’t get me wrong, I have no problem with people who drink, I drink a fair bit myself so I can’t really talk, but the difference is, I drink because I like the taste. I don’t get a thrill out of the idea of being drunk, or a competition about drinking the most. I really don’t get what achievement it is to consume a certain amount; you’re clearly not getting any pleasure from the taste of it, you’re only wasting your money and slowly killing yourself, for something you don’t even enjoy.
So please, don’t bother me with your drinking achievements, it doesn’t make you cool!
Finally booked my holiday yesterday!
Got a house for a week with some friends in Spain xD
Looking at how many arguments just the booking has caused, there will definitely be a few over the holiday… but oh well, it should be an experience fun!
I just hope none of the couples that are going break up/get into arguments between now and then…
Since I’ve got them, I’ve had a pain in my stomach… it feels like I’m really hungry, like an empty pain… but when I eat, it turns into a stabbing pain…
One of the side effects of the new medication is abdominal discomfort so I’m assuming it’s just that… but I only got them yesterday, could it have had an effect so quickly?
Either way, I’m going crazy… the decision between feeling unbearably hungry, or like I’ve been stabbed, is not a nice one…
Anonymous asked: are you going to the beatles: the lost concert" movie when it comes out next month?
Nope, I live in London…
When listening to music on youtube, I always have two tabs open, so I can find one song and get it ready before the other one stops… probably seems pointless but I hate the science in-between songs when you’re like ‘ahh hurry up and load the next one’ or ‘ahh hurry up and think of another song you like’
When I’ve finished making the first half, I stat eating it whilst making the second. So by the time I’ve finished, I only have half a sandwich. So then I feel the need to make another, and I start eating the second half whilst making that… And so it goes on and on… woo first world problems
If you should ever leave me
Though life would still go on believe me
The world could show nothing to me
So what could would living do me
God only knows what I’d be without you
"The beach boys
I wanna scuba dive to an abandoned pirate ship
Benedict Cumberbatch for New York and LA Times
What they’re actually like: